


watching you watch him

by bcvcrly



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bisexual Alya Césaire, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chloenette, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Chloé Bourgeois, Slow Burn, adrienette sucks in this, au where most of the characters don’t know that marinette likes adrien, chloe finally gets some character development, mayor bourgeois is a big ol hoe, not rly an au but whatever, this may just be a coping mechanism but we're not going to talk about it, y’all know how i love that gay stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcvcrly/pseuds/bcvcrly
Summary: “sometimes the very things that push people away from each other at first eventually bring them together.”based on the song by eric hutchinson





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i can't believe madame bustier rly ships chloenette how interesting

As soon as Marinette and Alya walked into class and saw the words “PARTNER PROJECT” written across the board, they grabbed each other’s arms. The girls would work together, the same as they always did it.

Madame Bustier started explaining the basis of the project: students would have to write an illustrated book of poems, which would be due in a month’s time. However, the girls were only half paying attention to her words, already divvying up the workload between the two of them.

“You’ll do the drawing, obviously,” Alya whispered. “I think we could write a bunch of poems about Ladybug and I could publish them on the Ladyb--”

“Partners will be assigned for this project,” Madame Bustier said, and she turned to write this on the board. Instantly, the room exploded. Students began to mutter indignantly, and Marinette even heard a shocked yelp from Nino behind her.

“I picked groups based on people I thought would work well together. If you have any issues with this--” the class erupted again-- “please take them up with me after class. Right now, you’re all just missing time you could spend planning. The list is on my desk.”

Everyone started towards it in unison, but Chloe got there first. A moment later, her blue eyes now popping out of her head, she threw the list to the ground. “This is _ridiculous_!” She shrieked. “I’m not-- I can’t-- I will not put up with this!”

“With what?” Marinette said, snatching the list from the ground. She scanned it quickly for her name. With a pang, she realized that Alya would be with Adrien, and that she was with…. Her partner was… “ _CHLOE?_ ”

She read it again, certain that her eyes were deceiving her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Chloe Bourgeois. There it was, as real as the furious girl standing before her, her usually composed face contorted in a hot rage.

“You’re with _Chloe?_ ” Alya gasped, grabbing the list from Marinette’s lax hands. “And I’m with Adrien? What the--”

“This has to be a joke,” Nino exclaimed, taking it from Alya. “Me? With Max? _Why_?”

“Class,” Madame Bustier interrupted, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You’re wasting your work time. Please form an orderly line if you need to talk to me.”

Nervously, Marinette met Chloe’s gaze. “I’m guessing you want us to get in line,” she said.

Chloe nodded, her jaw working angrily. “No offense, Marinette, but I need to work with someone competent.”

“None taken,” she grumbled, watching Alya and Adrien happily discuss something at a table nearby. Of all of the people she could possibly have to work with, why oh why did it have to be Chloe?

Madame Bustier looked exhausted by the time the girls were at the front of the line. “Do either of you have an actual concern about this?” She asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” they both replied desperately. “I can’t work with Chloe, Madame,” Marinette pleaded. “We just… aren’t good for each other. We argue about everything.”

“Yes, because her ideas are awful!” Chloe said heatedly. “Sabrina and I make a much better pairing, and I think Marinette would work well with Kim. Maybe we could just do a little switch--”

“Kim?!” Marinette protested, but stopped speaking as Madame Bustier put up a hand.

“If there aren’t any actual concerns for you two working together other than that you don’t personally ‘like it’, then I’m sorry, but I’m not changing the arrangement. This will be a good opportunity for you two to settle your differences and work together.” She turned away from them and began to organize papers. It was clear that the conversation was over.

“It was worth a shot,” Marinette said, mostly to herself. “I mean, true, I am stuck with the worst partner in the entire class, but--”

“I’m right here, asshole,” Chloe snapped. _Oops_. Marinette had forgotten that she was right next to her. “Let’s just get this over with so I never have to speak to you again.”

They reached an open table and took the seats. It was bizarre sitting next to Chloe. For one, Marinette was used to glaring at her from across the room, not this close. Second, as Chloe slammed her French Literature notebook on the table and opened it to the page on poetry, Marinette could see her pristine handwriting for the first time. It was unnerving; she had always assumed that Chloe just texted all hour.

“I can write half and you can write the other half,” Marinette offered. “And then I can illustrate it too, if you want.” She was still feeling sour that they had to work together, so she added, “I know you’re not used to doing your own work, but I’m not Sabrina, so I’m going to expect you to actually try for once.”

Chloe looked up at her, evidently surprised, but in a flash the expression was gone and she was snarkily replying, “ _You_ illustrating? Um, no thanks. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I don’t want those kinds of designs anywhere near this project.”

“ _My_ fashion? Chloe, I beat you in Gabriel Agreste’s hat design contest! You know, the one where you _copied my design_.” She took a deep breath. It would be no use to argue with Chloe all afternoon. The sooner they could finish this project, the better. “Fine. You can illustrate it. I don’t care. Do I have your phone number so I can text you about meeting up sometime to work on this?”

Chloe gave her a hard look, then reluctantly ripped out a small section of her notes page and wrote her phone number on it in big, looping pink numbers. “Here,” she said, throwing it at Marinette as though she couldn’t bear to touch her. “Don’t text me anything weird.”

Marinette was about to give her another angry reply, but the bell rang. She didn’t think she’d ever left a class faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me comments & kudos if u enjoyed !! <3


	2. Chapter 2

“Alya,” Marinette groaned, her head in her hands. “I can’t do this. Think it’s too late to transfer schools?”

The girls were sitting beside the fountain at the Place des Vosges. The weather was beautiful and sunny, in stark contrast to Marinette’s current mood.

Alya patted her arm sympathetically. “Yes,” she said. “I don’t want to get through this class without you! Look, the project is only for a month.”

“A _month_ ,” Marinette wailed. “You don’t get it! You have the best partner in the whole class!”

“Excuse me? Girl, I _am_ the best partner in the whole class. Anyway, don’t worry. I’ve been talking about you nonstop with Adrien. ‘Marinette is so beautiful and kind and honest and brave…’ he probably thinks _I_ have a crush on you at this point.”

“At least some good is coming from this project then,” Marinette said gloomily. “Chloe’s not even letting me illustrate it.”

“That bitch!” Alya exclaimed. “You’re one of the best artists in the class!”

“I don’t know about that,” Marinette said, “but I’m kind of surprised she wants to illustrate it. I mean, Chloe? Taking on extra responsibility?”

“Well, she is a control freak,” Alya said. Now she was texting someone. “Look at the way she orders all her servants around.”

Marinette laughed. “Who are you texting?”

“Adrien,” Alya said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and getting to her feet. “We’re going to meet for coffee in twenty minutes to plan the project more.”

Marinette couldn’t stop the surge of jealousy she felt at that. Spending time with Adrien would be a dream come true, and even though she knew Alya would never jeopardize their friendship by flirting with him, she felt insecure nonetheless.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Alya chided. “I don’t like him. I’m dating his best friend. Anyway, I’m super excited, because we’re writing poems about Ladybug!”

“Adrien likes Ladybug?”

“Oh my God, you have no idea. He was gushing about her nonstop in class today. Apparently he’s already written love poems about her. You might have some competition, girl!”

“Whoa,” Marinette said, suddenly giddy.

“You are so weird,” Alya laughed. “I have no idea why you would be excited over that. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll call you tonight!”

Marinette waved her goodbye and started to head home. The park was less than a block from her house, and even before she went in, she could smell cinnamon wafting through the open windows.

Sabine greeted her with a smile and a large palmier, which Marinette gratefully accepted. As she explained the whole Chloe crisis to her parents, Sabine and Tom exchanged sympathetic glances. They had never liked Chloe.

“Sometimes things have to happen to teach us important lessons,” Her mother told her. “Someday, you may have to work alongside someone you don’t always agree with, but cooperation and compromise are important skills in life.”

Marinette wanted to roll her eyes. Hearing that had been bad enough in class today. She didn’t need the exact same lecture from her parents. “That’s easy for you to say. I mean, you’re working with the love of your life!”

Her parents smiled and shrugged. “We didn’t always get along,” Tom said. “In fact, your mother and I even used to have a bit of a rivalry.”

“You did?” Marinette said, incredulous. The two seemed so perfect for each other that it was impossible to imagine them not getting along.

“Oh, yes,” Tom said, putting an affectionate arm around his wife. “Sabine has always had a bit of a competitive streak--”

“--and you an impulsive one,” Sabine chuckled. “But sometimes the very things that push people away from each other at first eventually bring them together.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” Marinette said, trying to imagine herself finding Chloe’s stubbornness endearing.

“Suit yourself,” her father shrugged. “You may be right. We know what Chloe is capable of.”

As Marinette headed up to her room, Sabine’s words kept playing in her head. The idea of being friends with Chloe was ridiculous… at best. Eventually, she shook her head and began to unpack her bag. Thinking about Chloe would do nothing but make her more angry. Right now, she needed to focus.

Marinette scrolled through one of her playlists until she found a song she liked, took out a pen and paper, and began to write her first poem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love me some good foreshadowing,, !! pls comment if u enjoyed ;^))


	3. Chapter 3

Chloe scrunched up her nose and crumpled Marinette’s poem into a ball. “What?” She asked, as if Marinette’s mutinous expression was completely unwarranted in this situation. As if Marinette hadn’t spent nearly an hour writing it.

“Chloe, this is a partner project! We’re supposed to be working together! And I spent a long time on that.”

“Well, I couldn’t tell. I’m honestly kind of appalled that you would write a full page on palmiers, anyway.”

Marinette muttered a few choice words under her breath. So maybe her poem hadn’t exactly been spectacular, but she’d never been a great writer. There was always some disconnect between her feelings and what ended up on the paper. In fact, the only time she’d really been able to write from her heart was when she wrote a Valentine’s poem for…

Her eyes drifted to Adrien, who was cutting out his paper in the shape of a heart. Marinette’s own heart fluttered.

“Okay, can I read yours then, Shakespeare?” She said at last, wrenching her eyes from Adrien to Chloe.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I haven’t written mine yet.”

“You-- Chloe! We only have a month to write all of these and illustrate them and compile them into a book!”

“I’d rather not waste our time writing about palmiers, then. If you’re just writing the poems to finish the project, what’s the point? We might as well make it good. After all, what was it that you said yesterday? That you expect me to ‘actually try for once’? Consider this me trying.” She opened up her notebook and immediately started highlighting things in the poetry section, without even glancing at Marinette.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She shouldn’t have said that about Chloe. She really knew nothing about her work ethic, and, as hard as it was to hear it, she’d been right about Marinette’s poems on palmiers. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Chloe’s highlighter hovered above the page for a moment, then she looked up at Marinette and said, “Thanks.”

It was the first time she’d spoken without sarcasm or utter disgust, and something about it felt oddly vulnerable. Maybe there was more to Chloe than Marinette had thought.

“What are you looking at? We’re supposed to be planning out our schedule!” Chloe snapped.

Marinette nearly sighed with relief. So the Chloe she knew was still there. “Okay,” she said, pulling out her phone and opening her calendar. “Do you want to meet for coffee next week? We can choose some topics and poem types then.”

“I guess,” Chloe replied with disinterest. “Does Wednesday work for you?”

Marinette clicked on the date. “Yes.” God, this was so weird. She never thought that she would need to go out for coffee with Chloe Bourgeois.

“Great. Just so we’re clear, if you write a poem about coffee, I just might kill you.” Chloe capped her highlighter. A second later, she gave an exasperated sigh. “Lighten up, Dupain-Cheng. It was a _joke_.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. The idea of Chloe making a joke was impossible to comprehend. Granted, it had been a quite threatening and rude one, but it was still beyond anything she was used to.

She told Alya this as they made their way to Chemistry. Her friend gave her a concerned look from behind her glasses. “Be careful,” she said. “I don’t trust anything that girl does.”

“Me neither,” Marinette murmured, thinking of all the times Chloe had made fun of her, hurt her, excluded her…

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, please take out your textbook,” Ms. Mendeleiev barked. Marinette quickly fumbled through her bag and opened it. Even now, Chloe was indirectly causing her embarrassment. As she flipped to the page on chemical bonds, her phone buzzed. Discreetly, she took it out of her bag. If Ms. Mendeleiev caught her with this, it would be confiscated, which was the last thing she needed right now.

It was from her mother. This was unusual-- Sabine never texted when her daughter was at school, partially because she knew it could result in her getting in trouble and partially because she had trouble figuring out how to use it at times.

MAMAN: **Can you help us in the bakery on Wednesday after school? We just received a huge order and the more hands on deck, the better!**

This was accompanied by several emojis. Marinette rolled her eyes. What was it with parents and emojis?

MARINETTE: **of course!! you can count on me**

“Who’re you texting?” Alya hissed. “Put that away! Mendeleiev is coming over here!”

Marinette clicked her phone off and slid it back into her bag just as their teacher walked by. After mouthing a silent thanks to Alya, she immersed herself back in the textbook.

“So who was that?” Alya asked as the girls made their way to their lockers after class. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Chloe?”

“Stop that! We’re not even friends, Alya! Who were you texting, Alya? _Adrien?_ ”

“Whoa, come on,” her friend said. “I’ve told you he’s not my type. Too… dull.”

“Adrien Agreste is not dull,” Marinette said hotly. “He’s just reserved.”

Alya shrugged and opened her locker. “Suit yourself,” she said. “I guess I just like a guy with personality.”

As she said this, Nino appeared with Adrien in tow. As soon as the former caught sight of Alya, he beamed and hugged her. Marinette looked away, feeling a little out of place. When Alya and Nino were together, it seemed like they were always _touching_.

When she looked up again, she saw that Adrien was rummaging through his locker. “Fencing lesson,” he explained.

 _I know_ , Marinette thought. She’d memorized his schedule months ago.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” He called behind him as he left. Marinette’s brain had stopped functioning so she offered him a wordless, dizzy wave.

Alya and Nino were still hugging and laughing so Marinette took out her phone, not wanting to be the third wheel. She opened her calendar app to add that she had to help her parents in the bakery on…

… on Wednesday. When she was supposed to meet with Chloe.

Her mind reeled. Should she reschedule with Chloe? Evenings were almost busy because of patrol with Chat Noir, and it wasn’t as though she could miss part of the school day to work. She was babysitting Manon on Thursday, she had plans with Alya on Friday…

“Get out of my way! Ugh, the nerve of some people.”

Marinette jumped at the sound of Chloe’s voice. The blonde was swatting her away as if she were a mosquito.

“Are you deaf now too? Move! That’s my locker!”

Marinette jumped out of the way and braced herself for whatever nasty comment Chloe would launch at her when she told her the news.

“Chloe, you know how we’re supposed to meet on Wednesday?”

Chloe slammed her locker hard. “Yes?” She already sounded displeased.

Marinette opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. No doubt as soon as she told her, Chloe would murder her.

“Spit it out, Dupain-Cheng, I don’t have all day. Sabrina and I are getting pedicures in an hour and I want to change first.”

The words started tumbling out. “I can’t do Wednesday, Chloe— my parents need me to help in the bakery and I agreed and I totally forgot about the assignment and I can’t say no to them now, because they’re counting on me, so—”

Chloe yawned. “And?”

Marinette stopped. “What do you mean, ‘and’?”

“And why is that such a big deal? I’ll just come to the bakery and we can work there.”

“But I’ll be working. I’ll be covered in flour and sugar and stuff.”

“Don’t worry, you couldn’t possibly get any messier in _my_ eyes.” Her eyes were glinting and Marinette had the bizarre hunch that she was joking again. “So I’ll bring my notes and we can just talk through it.”

Marinette nodded slowly. This had to be a dream. Chloe Bourgeois just made a compromise with her. An honest to goodness compromise. “So I’ll… see you Wednesday?” She said.

Chloe nodded, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and took off in the other direction, leaving Marinette stunned, silent, and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and NOW it starts picking up a little ;^)!!!!!!  
> u know the drill. comment if u think this doesn’t completely suck


	4. Chapter 4

Marinette didn’t remember the last time she’d felt this nervous. Well, that wasn’t true. She hadn’t felt this nervous since she first obtained her Miraculous.

Which was really, _really_ saying something.

If the idea of coffee with Chloe was intimidating, voluntarily letting the girl into the bakery and then proceeding to have a civil conversation with her was downright terrifying. Marinette wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it without throwing the whole cake at her.

It was Wednesday, which meant the girls had plans to brainstorm some general topics and map out their book.

“You okay, girl?” Alya asked as she slid into her seat and immediately set up her laptop. “You’re looking a little…”

“Pale,” Nino chipped in, leaning forward so as to get a better look at her. “Maybe you should just tell Madame that this project is literally killing you.”

Marinette groaned and slumped deeper in her seat.

“Hey, maybe this will cheer you up! Check out this poem I wrote!” Alya said, proudly displaying her laptop screen to Marinette.

“You guys are already writing?” Marinette said. “Chloe and I haven’t even planned it out yet!”

“I told Alya we should have planned first,” Adrien chimed in, looking at her with fake sternness. Something in Marinette melted.

“But I had so many good ideas about what to write!”

“Me too,” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “About Ladybug, I mean. She’s amazing.”

Suddenly feeling very warm, Marinette turned around to face forward again. So what if Adrien liked the idealized, perfect version of her? It was still _her_. Deep down, Ladybug was always Marinette.

Instead of work time, Madame Bustier gave the students a lesson on the types of poems. Secretly, Marinette was dreading doing the project. She loved illustrating, but writing had never been her strong suit.

Hopefully Chloe was a better writer than person.

* * *

Marinette dusted her hands on her apron again, scanning the street for a sign of Chloe. She checked the clock. She was now five minutes late.

The order her parents had told her about was huge— four enormous cakes for their client’s quadruplets. Sabine and Tom had already finished the first one. Marinette eyed the elaborately iced black cake with the name _Pyth_ on it, then the list of the other names— _Drew, Mett, Julie_ — and breathed out slowly.

She could do this.

She hardly even noticed when Chloe arrived. She was in another world. Four eggs. More sugar. Vanilla. Flour. Milk. Stir. It wasn’t until she cleared her throat impatiently that Marinette looked up, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and gestured for her to sit.

Chloe assembled her many pens and notes on the nearest table, then walked up to the counter.

“What?” Marinette said.

“You have— flour in your hair,” she said, and looked as if she was about to brush it away from her bangs herself, but then drew her hand back and went back to the table.

“Sorry,” Marinette mumbled. She felt oddly self-conscious about it.

“Anyway,” Chloe said quickly, “I was thinking we could start with couplets. They’re so easy.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, adding food coloring to the mix. “So we could each write one?”

“Sure,” Chloe replied, writing this down in her notebook. “I drew out a calendar for us so let’s have those done by this Friday.”

Marinette was about to respond again when Sabine suddenly appeared behind her. “Maman!” She exclaimed, and threw her flour-coated arms around her.

“Hello, Chloe,” Sabine said after dusting herself off and noticing the blonde at the table. “What are you two up to?”

“Mapping our deadlines for our project,” Chloe said immediately, clicking her pen. Her face was instantly closed-off, her voice professional… Marinette realized she’d probably learned at a young age how to talk to adults, after constantly being around her father’s well-to-do friends.

Sabine’s eyes flitted from Chloe’s notebook to her rainbow assortment of pens to Marinette frantically putting the second cake into the oven. “Why don’t you help out Marinette for a bit?” She said at last. Chloe immediately opened her mouth to protest, but Sabine was already leaving. “The spare apron is in the middle drawer,” she added before the door clicked shut.

The girls sat in an uncomfortable silence until they both spoke at the same time. “I guess a few minutes wouldn’t hurt…” Chloe sighed, as Marinette said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

With the most genuine grin she’d ever seen Chloe give, the blonde took the apron from the drawer and tied it around her waist. “I’ve never done this before,” she said.

Marinette shrugged and tossed her an empty pipette. “It’s easy.”

* * *

That night, as she got ready for bed, she wondered what had gone _right_. What was it about an obnoxiously large cake order and a poetry project that could turn two enemies into…

 _Well_.

She wasn’t sure if they were friends. She didn’t know if she _wanted_ to be friends with Chloe. The girl was impossible to read.

But something had shifted between them when they were baking and mixing and frosting. Something intangible and nearly undetectable. At some point in the afternoon, the cries of, “You _lunatic_!” and “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?!” had faded away, replaced with, “Whoa, Chloe, that looks _incredible_ ,” and “How do you make them so fast? That’s impressive!”

At some point, they’d sat down on the floor and scooped out the remnants of the cake batter with spoons and ate and _laughed together_.

None of this, of course, was even the weirdest part. Marinette closed her eyes, remembering what Chloe had said before she left.

_We should hang out sometime!_

_What happened?_ What changed today? Marinette should feel some sort of foreboding, right? Wariness?

Why was she so _happy?_

She reached for her phone to tell Alya, but something about this situation made her turn it off instead. Everything felt out of place inside of her.

She needed to regain some normalcy in her life. Marinette let out a long breath and picked up her phone again, but this time she just scrolled through songs in her playlist she’d made for Adrien.

Well, not for Adrien. Just… about her situation with him.

Or lack thereof.

Once again, she wished that she could be doing this project with Adrien. She imagined sitting on the floor with _him_ , eating cake batter and giggling. Texting _him_ late at night instead of just making project plans with Chloe. She wished _Adrien_ would make jokes with her instead.

Something about these thoughts invoked a deep, raw yearning in her, but she focused on the better side of it. The safety of knowing she’d liked Adrien forever, safety in knowing exactly how she felt.

After all, she decided, what was the use in figuring out Chloe? Why reach for more uncertainty and messiness? She could barely figure out herself most of the time. Adding another person to the equation couldn’t possibly bode well.

She didn’t know if she and Chloe were friends, but it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

She wouldn’t let it matter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is marinette’s last chapter aww

For the thousandth time, Marinette wondered why she’d agreed to this.

For the billionth time, she wondered why Chloe had _invited her_ to do this.

The girls were at Andre’s ice cream stand. They’d rushed immediately after school— their backpacks were still slung over their shoulders.

“I’m writing that poem tonight,” Marinette said, licking a drop of lemon sherbet that was about to fall onto her hand.

“Good. Me too,” Chloe replied. She was holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “We should meet this weekend to decide what we’ll do next and compare poems.”

“I… can’t.” Alya had promised that she would find some way for Marinette to hang out with Adrien, and there was no way she was going to turn _that_ down. The project would have to wait.

Chloe turned away at that. She’d finished her cotton candy ice cream already and was now fiddling with one of the buttons on her cardigan. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Marinette repeated, feeling a bit awkward now. “Sorry. But we could meet on Monday.”

“Sure,” Chloe said absently. “Are you busy today?” She was _smiling_ at her.

And Marinette would be damned if she didn’t think Chloe was beautiful when she smiled. “I was supposed to babysit,” she said at last. “But Mrs. Chamak just canceled. Why?”

“Sabrina hasn’t really been talking to me lately,” Chloe said after a long pause. “She likes Kim, I guess, so she’s been spending all her time with him for this project. I kept trying to hang out with her but she clearly doesn’t want to. Anyway… would you want to do something together instead?”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth several times. Chloe… inviting her to hang out… being genuinely _nice_ …

Chloe rolled her eyes. “You look like a goldfish right now. So is that a no?”

“No,” Marinette spluttered, totally surprising herself. “I mean, no, it’s not a no. It’s a… yeah, okay. Sure.”

Since when did Chloe Bourgeois make her tongue-tied?

The blonde threw the remains of her cone into the nearest garbage, gave Marinette another one of her grins, and led the way back to her house.

It wasn’t really a house. Chloe lived in a mansion, and although Marinette had never commented on it before, she decided to be nice for once. After all, Chloe was extending her kindness to Marinette for now, even if it was only for this dumb project.

“Whoa,” she said intelligently. She wasn’t even sure what the word was directed to. The huge, gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling? The butler, who offered Chloe a curt nod? The Ladybug c—

“You own a Ladybug costume?” Marinette said. It came out more judgmentally than she’d intended.

Chloe reddened slightly and snatched the costume from where it was draped across the nearest chair. “I told you to put that away!” She snapped at the butler. “And anyway, yes, I suppose, but it’s not like you think.”

“Not like— what do you mean?”

“I admire her as a superhero _only_.” They were now going into the elevator. Chloe punched in a number, then turned to face Marinette again. “She’s unrealistic. That’s why I don’t understand why everyone is in love with her. They’re not in love with a person… she’s an image. They’re chasing reflections. She’s whatever they want to be— brave, beautiful, strong… and to blindly love those types of things without the flaws under them is so… shallow. And unrealistic.”

“Um,” Marinette said. She had never thought of it that way. _Chasing reflections_. The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was true. She knew that Ladybug was the better, stronger version of herself, but it had never occurred to her that other people were not infatuated with her. It was about the good traits she exhibited.

“What? Let me guess: you’re in love with her like everyone else.”

“I am not! I was just thinking about what you said. That’s… deep.” _The deepest thing I’ve ever heard you say_ , she added silently.

Chloe shrugged. “I think love should be so much deeper than that. Anyway, here’s my room. Please do not touch anything. Everything in this room cost a fortune and Daddy will throw a fit if you break anything.”

“I’m not a klutz, Chloe,” Marinette said, knowing fully well that this was an utter lie. “What did you have in mind that we do?”

“I could give you a makeover,” Chloe suggested.

Marinette glared. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Movie?”

“Which movie?”

Chloe pulled a stack of Disney movies from a drawer. The girls began sifting through them, more to make commentary on them than to actually choose one.

“ _Frozen_?”

“Are you joking? That movie sucked!”

“Why would you buy it if you hate it?”

“Why not? Okay, how about _Tangled_?”

“Is there a reason why you only have movies I didn’t like? For the record, I don’t like _Frozen_ either, by the way. How about _Mulan_?”

“I love that movie,” Chloe said, grabbing it from her. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Marinette was surprised. “I thought you only cared about clothes and money, to be honest. Mulan is a good movie.”

Chloe eyed her, unimpressed. “You really think so lowly of me, don’t you.”

“Well, you’ve worked pretty hard to give me that impression, Chloe. Hey, you’ve been better lately.”

Another little smile. “Good.”

* * *

Of course, Chloe had a whole room dedicated to movie-watching, with a large popcorn machine and various other snacks.

Marinette was glad they’d chosen a movie she was familiar with, because she was hardly watching it at all. The girls would laugh loudly at poorly-timed jokes about the characters, rewind every few minutes to see if they’d missed anything else worth laughing at, and exhausted the topic of Li Shang’s sexuality.

“I’ve never talked about sexuality with anyone before,” Chloe said at one point.

“Really?” Alya and Marinette were always talking about it, ever since Alya had confessed a few years ago that she wasn’t sure how she felt about herself. Marinette hadn’t told anyone, but they’d had many discussions about it since. “Why?”

“Because it’s none of their business,” she said. “By the way, Mulan is probably my favorite Disney princess.”

“I liked Cinderella,” Marinette told her.

“A girl who wears scraps all the time?” Chloe looked her up and down. “You _would_ like that, wouldn’t you.”

“Shut up,” Marinette said, tossing a pillow at her. “If you hate my clothes so much, why did you copy my outfit from last week?”

“I-I  _didn’t_ —” she protested.

“Chloe, I _saw_ that you were looking at it!”

“No I wasn’t!”

“Really? So what were you doing, then? Checking me out?”

After that, they were very engrossed in the movie.

* * *

“Thanks,” Marinette said as they reached the bakery. It was dark now. Marinette couldn’t believe that she’d stayed so long. After the movie, they’d just talked. For hours. “This was really fun.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “Don’t forget that poem tonight!”

Chloe walked her to the doorstep and waved Marinette goodbye.

As soon as the door shut behind her, she put her face in her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gay culture is watching mulan together


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a whole lotta angst
> 
> u may notice that the writing style gets a lot more descriptive and emotion-heavy... i think that while marinette is trying to suppress her feelings to make them easier to deal with, chloe knows the dangers of doing that and is instead trying to accept how she is.

Chloe had always known, and ironically, it had started with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It had been her first day at a public school, and everyone already had friends, everyone knew their way around, everyone seemed to know exactly what was going on even though they were only children.

She remembered Marinette, sweet, quiet, bursting with creativity even in middle school. And something in Chloe had just _clicked_.

At the time, she didn’t know it was a crush. Or maybe she did, and she just pushed it down. She couldn’t remember. But she did remember that at some point, she’d realized that she did have a crush on Marinette. Scared, disgusted, and panicked, she’d told Sabrina.

“I like someone,” she’d said. Sabrina wanted to know who it was. “A secret,” Chloe had told her. “What do I do?”

Sabrina had said to ignore it, and that was when Chloe stopped taking her advice. She had said it would go away. That she would forget it. That it would get better.

It didn’t get better. It got worse, and then it turned bitter, and then it started leaking out of her in the worst ways.

She’d lashed out at Marinette to hide how she felt, told anyone who would listen what an _awful girl_ she was. She would look at Marinette and feel like everything in the world was crashing down and she couldn’t tell anyone. Everything was breaking, but it was a secret.

Her father had figured it out somehow. He was the mayor of Paris. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t let anyone know the terrible truth about his daughter.

Chloe had lashed out at him too, and she hated herself for it. It wasn’t his fault, but it also wasn’t her fault.

With time, her crush on Marinette subsided, or maybe it was just buried under a thick level of self-hatred and shame. Chloe would glance across the room and see the most amazing girl in the world, but then the embarrassment would reach her, and she’d glare at her or look away.

She knew the price of loving a girl like that.

But these past few weeks, she’d grown careless. She’d clearly forgotten her father’s angry tears, the scornful looks of the staff, the hard, rushing fear that gripped her every time he threatened to do something. To kick her out. To send her back to private school. To be forbidden from talking to girls.

She’d grown careless and today, she’d almost shown it. The unbidden thought kept bobbing to the surface, no matter how frantically Chloe tried to suppress it: _Did she want me to? Does she want me to show it?_

Hundreds of things could go wrong if she showed it. Chloe hated the complete lack of control she felt around her. She was used to being in-control: ordering her butler around however she wanted, manipulating students into doing her work.

She had done this to herself and she knew it. She’d pushed away so many people because she was terrified that if they knew, they wouldn’t want to get any closer.

She knew the price of loving a girl like that.

 _I’ve never talked about sexuality with anyone before_ , she’d told Marinette today.

And Marinette hadn’t shied away. She hadn’t looked disgusted. She’d said that she _had_.

And in the elevator, when she’d said those things about Ladybug— Marinette’s face had just _opened_ , and she’d looked at Chloe as though she were the sun.

She could live in that feeling.

She had to write this poem now, and as her hands grazed her pens for the perfect shade of blue, she came up with an idea.

A terrible, amazing idea.

Their assignment for today was to write a couplet. Just two lines.

Two lines with a lot of potential.

Chloe got to work and when she was finished, she read it and reread it and wondered if this was a terrible idea.

_Something hidden, something strong  
Is it right or is it wrong?_

“She’s probably straight,” Chloe said out loud to herself, then laughed. That really _would_ be just her luck.

She glanced at her alarm and realized with a start that it was nearly two in the morning. And she had school tomorrow. And she could not have bags under her eyes.

So she quickly changed and turned off her lamp and got into bed. She dreamed of everything about herself she hated.

She knew the price of loving a girl like that. But in her dreams, that price seemed small compared to its reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i looove chloe and tried to give her the character arc she deserves!! lemme know if i’m doing her justice


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof!

“Did you do the poem?”

Chloe was illustrating hers, but she’d never been much of an artist. That was obviously Marinette’s area of expertise. “Yes,” she said, trying so very hard not to focus on the way Marinette’s hair brushed her neck as she moved, the way her lashes fanned out as she looked down at herself.

Her feelings for Marinette were always so horribly strong, whether she was slandering her or… or whatever she was doing right now that was making her knees weak.

“I need some help,” Marinette said. “I mean, I have ideas, but I just can’t write them. If that makes sense.”

To Chloe, it didn’t make sense. Writing was her outlet and to her, the pen was just an extension of her mind and heart. But she would help Marinette. Hell, she would die for Marinette as long as she would never find out.

Seven years was a long time to be in love with someone.

“So incompetent,” she murmured, prompting Marinette’s lips to tug upwards slightly. “Whatever. Give me some paper and sit down.”

The classroom may have been buzzing with the voices of working students all around them, but at that moment, Chloe felt like they were the only people in the world. She gave Marinette a pencil from her bag and said, “What do you want it to be about? Please for the love of God do not say pa—”

“I was _not_ going to write about palmiers!” Marinette said hotly. “It was actually going to be about a crush.”

Everything in Chloe froze. A crush. Marinette _liked someone_. And then, all at once, everything was rushing in her, hot and furious and passionate and terrified— _was it her?_ Chloe? _Could_ she like Chloe? What if she _did_? What if she _didn’t_?

“That’s… nice,” she managed. “Who?”

Marinette gave her a dirty look. “I should’ve known you’d ask,” she said. “Let’s just pretend it’s Ladybug.”

“I knew it,” Chloe said. “Fine. Whatever. Ladybug. How does… Ladybug… make you feel?”

“Good?” Marinette said. “I told you, I don’t know.”

“Marinette, if you write a poem using words like “good” to describe love, you are doomed.”

“Show me yours, then!” Marinette retorted, and she grabbed Chloe’s from under her arm.

_Something hidden, something strong  
Is it right or is it wrong?_

Marinette’s lips formed the words as she read, and when she set down the paper again her face was closed and unreadable. Chloe couldn’t stand it. She knew she was the same way, but the fact that Marinette had read this poem and didn’t know— _or did she know?_

Chloe was so caught up in this thought that she didn’t notice Marinette had written something until she gave it to her.

_Loved you then, love you still  
Don’t know if you ever will_

She read it again. And then again. And then again.

This poem was not about Ladybug, obviously.

Who was it about? Her heart felt frantic and light, not daring to hope that this was about her but already making the reach in spite of itself.

“You have to tell me,” she whispered.

“No,” Marinette whispered back.

“Someone in our class?”

“Maybe.”

Everything was so ambiguous, which Chloe hated. She read it again.

Two lines isn’t nearly enough to understand a heart.

“Your poem,” Marinette said, gesturing to it, “is about hiding something. Don’t you understand, then?”

 _Yes. More than anything_. “I guess.”

“Okay. And, um, mind if I illustrate these? Your flowers look like popcorn.”

They were laughing now, and Chloe hardly cared that their classmates were looking at them. She didn’t care about anything but her. Marinette.

“Your poem is beautiful, by the way,” Marinette said. “You don’t have to tell me what it’s about.”

“Thank you.” She looked down at it again. Why couldn’t Marinette just be horrible to her? Chloe wished she could hate her. It would make everything infinitely easier.

She looked around the room, wondering who on earth Marinette was pining for. Who did she even talk to? She was so universally kind that it was hard to know what was friendliness and what was genuine interest.

Chloe hated that, too. She felt like such a fool.

The bell rang and Chloe packed up her things and left as quickly as possible, not bothering to see Sabrina, who was probably with Kim and certainly not bothering to see Marinette walk with Alya to her chemistry class.

 _Maybe it’s Alya_ , she thought bitterly. Alya had a boyfriend, though, and had never expressed even the slightest interest in Marinette, to Chloe’s knowledge.

 _Maybe it’s Nathanael_ … someone who notoriously had liked Marinette for awhile. Would she really date someone just because they liked her, regardless of her own feelings in the matter?

 _Maybe it’s Adrien_ , she thought as he passed her in the hallway. But surely Marinette could see through a boy like that, all looks and politeness and no real substance. The girls that threw themselves at Adrien were just like the ones that chased Ladybug: people chasing reflections of the best parts of themselves and bits of who they wish they could be.

Chloe knew love and she hated it. Love was not butterflies and kisses and soft smiles. It could, of course, be those things. But it also had the potential to be dark and formidable, unbidden and unstoppable. Love could just as easily be a star as it could a black hole, and it often was a combination of both.

She was nearly at the doorway to her math classroom when Max ran into her. “Sorry!” He yelped. Because he _should_ be scared. Because everyone thought Chloe was so strong, so angry, so emotionless.

Oh, they couldn’t have been more wrong. She was seconds from breaking into a million paper-thin pieces, filled with emotions she couldn’t stop, love she couldn’t tame.

“You should be,” she mumbled back as she moved past him to her seat, but she didn’t really mean it. She felt as though something deep and dormant had suddenly woke up inside of her and it was consuming her. It was all she could think about. _She_ was all she could think about.

Before she knew it, she was doing her math worksheet, filling in answers and analyzing graphs, but she was a million miles away inside, thinking of a pretty girl with a beautiful soul and the consequences of wanting what you can never, ever have.

Love was pain. And to Chloe, it was the most powerful, remarkable pain she’d ever experienced.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deep sigh this one took a lot outta me but don't worry folks there's still more to come!

"I wrote the next poem," Marinette announced shyly. They were in a coffee shop together and Chloe was trying  _oh so hard_ to not think about how date-like this was.

"We didn't make plans to do that! Ugh, you don't tell me anything. Maybe you should just do this yourself."

Marinette was getting better at detecting her sarcasm. She stuck her tongue out at Chloe. Then  _winked._ Chloe had had some kind of response planned, but at that, it completely disappeared.

 "Are you going to ask to read it, or are you just going to stare at me like that?" Marinette said at last. "What, is there something on my face?"

She didn't sound annoyed. In fact, she sounded nearly self-conscious about it, and Chloe's heart melted at the way her eyes widened and she dabbed at her cheeks with a napkin.

 In that moment, Chloe wanted to kiss her. She'd had the thought before, of course, but it was  _so strong_ now and the only thing holding her back was the inevitable rejection it would receive.

 But... would it face rejection?  _Would it?_ If only she  _knew_ how Marinette felt... but Chloe had the sneaking suspicion that even Marinette herself did not fully understand how she felt.

 "You  _wish,_ " she tried to sneer, but it came out breathy and not nearly as defiant as she'd hoped, and the tips of Marinette's ears burned pink. She cleared her throat. She could feel her pulse, hard and very,  _very_ fast in her throat.

  _Don't think about kissing her. Don't think about k--_

 "Could I see your poem?"

 Slowly, Marinette slid it across the table and took a long sip from her coffee. Chloe noted that she'd loaded it up with several creamers and sugars, which was just about the cutest thing in the world.

 "It's a haiku," Marinette said. "I did it right, right?"

 Chloe's eyes dropped to read.

_Because why would I_

_Choose what can never be mine_

_Instead of what's sure?_

 "What is this about?"  _And_ who  _is this about?_  All of the colors and sounds in the room had been suddenly amplified. Was it going to be like this every time Marinette showed her a poem? Couldn't she just stop reading into everything for once?

 "Nothing!" Marinette squeaked, but then her ears reddened further and she looked down at her coffee again. "I just... like someone. I haven't really told anyone. It's complicated."

 Everything was  _too bright._ Was it Chloe? She nearly laughed then, because why would it be Chloe?

  _Because I make her laugh,_ she thought.  _Because I'm kind to her now. Because for years, I've... felt things. Because something about her puts everything inside of me at peace for the first time. Because maybe I could do the same for her someday._

 "I get that," Chloe said at last.

 "You like someone?" Marinette said, and her elbow jerked and knocked her coffee. It nearly spilled and she swore and caught it moments before it toppled into her lap.

 Why was she telling her this? Why was she doing this? Maybe something to do with all of the fun they'd had together lately. Maybe something to do with the little glances Marinette would give her, the efforts to make her laugh, texting her first... they were definitely friends now. Chloe knew that much. But oh, she could think of something  _so much better_ than friends.

 "Yeah."

 There was an expectant pause, during which every single nerve of Chloe's body was on fire, and she leaned forward, certain that Marinette was about to ask,  _positive_ that she would want to know,  _need_ to know--

 "Okay. That's great, Chloe. I hope it works out with him."

  _I hope it works out with him._ She wanted to cry.  _Him._

 Marinette didn't know. She didn't feel it. She wasn't like Chloe.

  _It's not a him,_ Chloe thought desperately.  _It's never been a him._

 "Oh." And now she was looking at Chloe with big eyes, her mouth a perfect "O", and Chloe realized with a jolt that she'd said that out loud.

 Another pause. Marinette was still looking at her, but after awhile it became too much for Chloe and she fixated on her coffee cup instead. If she could just  _say something_...

 "That's cool too, Chloe. Sorry, I hope you don't think I-- I mean, I'm not mad or disgusted or whatever."

 "Thanks." What did one  _say_ in this kind of situation?

 "I'm, um, not straight either. By the way." Those blue eyes flitted back up to Chloe's again. "And you don't have to tell me who you like. She's a lucky girl, whoever she is."

  _It's you, it's you, it's you, it's you._ Chloe didn't know how she smiled and shrugged and looked back at her poetry notes so nonchalantly when every bit of her insides was screaming.

 And then, suddenly, something overtook her. She  _needed_ Marinette to know. She couldn't go for years like this, loving from a distance forever. She needed certainty. She needed confirmation. She needed Marinette more than anything in the whole damn world.

 "It's you," she said softly.  _Ever since the beginning._ She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the expression of shock on Marinette's face.

 "I... oh..." She looked so,  _so_ overwhelmed, hands flitting over the table before clutching at her hair, looking anywhere but at Chloe.

 She could almost hear her own heart breaking.

 Chloe had always hidden her feelings. Her father routinely hosted parties where she would have to smile politely at everyone, no matter how she was feeling at the time. At school, she'd quickly learned that soft manipulation held much more power over her teachers than shouting like a child, even though she often felt like one.

 So she could handle this. No problem. Her shoulders may have tensed, but not enough for Marinette to notice, surely. She bit the inside of her cheek, but she was turned away from her anyways, so she wouldn't notice.

 She knew the price of loving a girl like that and she'd  _blown it_ and now she had to suffer the consequence.

 "You're... great, Chloe." Marinette was speaking slowly, carefully, as if hyper-aware that every syllable she spoke stabbed  _hard_ into Chloe's bruised, aching heart. "And I'm really, really glad we're friends, but..."

 "But  _what?_ " Chloe's voice cracked on the word and it was the saddest thing she'd ever heard.

 "But I think I like someone else. Adrien. And I... Chloe, there are so many reasons we could never be... you know." 

 "Do you like me?"  _Because I like you, more than any poem could ever say._ She didn't know what she expected from her. A yes?  _No_ because of Adrien? She was drowning in something much thicker and darker than water.

 What Marinette actually said was, in many ways, far, far worse. "I don't know." She bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut. "I can't think about that right now. There's so much going on in my life right now. I have a lot of... responsibilities... and I can't get you tangled up in all of it. And your dad... how would he feel about... us?"

 Mayor Bourgeois' opinions on the matter were notorious, and when Marinette said it, Chloe felt a hot surge of fury towards him. He'd done this. He'd suppressed her for so long.

  _I could explain to him_ , she wanted to say. She would give anything in the world to hold Marinette in her arms forever.

 But that wasn't what happened. Instead they both got up from the table and Chloe looked out at the pouring rain to avoid thinking about the raging storm inside of herself.

 Marinette gave her a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I still want us to be friends. I won't make it awkward, I promise."

 And then she gathered her things and stuffed them into her messenger bag. When Chloe looked up, she was hunched over to block her face from the rain as she traipsed through it.

 After that, she could see nothing but the blurriness of her own tears.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adrien sweetie i’m sorry i did u so dirty in this i love u i swear

Chloe wished Adrien Agreste were in a different French class.

Suddenly, she was noticing _everything_. The little glances Marinette gave him before she took her seat. The notes she passed Alya across the desk.

The way he flipped his hair, gave her that careless, friendly, infuriatingly polite smile. How could Marinette not see it-- that this was all a boy like him could ever be?

Marinette tried to sit with her today, but Chloe had insisted that she needed to work alone.

She’d sat with Adrien instead, and Chloe was stuck behind them.

“How are your Ladybug poems going?” She asked him.

“Great! She’s so _perfect_.”

Chloe wanted to gag. Adrien was incapable of seeing past physical perfection and a strong exterior. Marinette was twice the woman Ladybug was because she was real and flawed in incredible ways, and each imperfection made her interesting and unique and human.

But she couldn’t be thinking like this. There was a piercing, physical pain in her heart and watching Marinette nod her head in silent awe at Adrien’s bland sentence was only making it more and more unbearable.

“What are you and Chloe doing the project on?” Adrien asked. In spite of herself, Chloe took a peek at his poem and was thoroughly unimpressed.

As she’d told Marinette, anyone who used the word “good” to describe love was doomed.

“Love,” Marinette said quietly, and Chloe was certain she was imagining the sadness in her voice because why would _Marinette_ be sad? She didn’t even like Chloe.

Correction: she didn’t even _know_ if she liked Chloe. She couldn’t even give her that. She couldn’t even bear to think about her and give her the truth.

Chloe had never experienced a pain like this before, even in all of the years she’d spent suppressing, feeling, wondering. Because this was different. There was no imagination in this. Chloe could not fantasize about a better outcome.

This was raw and harsh and entirely too real for her to process, because it felt like someone had carved out an essential piece of her, something she’d always just known for years: that she loved Marinette and that maybe someday Marinette would love her too.

 _Maybe someday…_ Chloe snorted and the head of her pencil broke off violently. _More like probably never._

“Love? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. Chloe’s a much better writer than me, though.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

And after that, they worked in silence. There was no fun banter between them. No jokes. No flirty glances. Just an awkward Marinette and dully perfect Adrien.

Chloe caught sight of Sabrina, talking to Kim, and noted that his arm was around her shoulders. _They’re dating,_ she realized, and instantly felt like she were so separate from the rest of the class, she might as well have been on a different planet. _They’re dating and she didn’t tell me._

“I’m glad your project is going well,” Marinette tried again eventually.

“Same,” Adrien said. Chloe had had it with the repetitive, useless responses.

In a sense, she could see that Adrien and Marinette were similar. Adrien was infatuated with a phantom, a caricature of perfection that he could hold as godly forever without worrying about reality coming to crush his fantasy. Marinette idolized Adrien, a safe boy who would never feel the same about her but had just enough admirable qualities that she could keep chasing her dreams forever.

Well, Chloe knew how those kinds of dreams ended. She knew why her mother had left her father, because they didn’t have love; the only love they shared was that of money and status. When the butterflies subsided and loneliness began to creep back in, people always regretted rushing so fast into people they knew nothing about.

Chloe _knew_ Marinette, from afar and up close. She knew her heart.

But now she watched Marinette prop her head on her hand and laugh at some lame joke of Adrien’s and willed herself not to cry again. She heard the rustle of clothes as Marinette leaned in to see something he’d written.

She was breaking again.

But then… then Alya looked up, and Chloe was about to make some rude comment about her, but she only looked at Adrien and Marinette and gave Chloe a sympathetic look.

Weirder still, she left her chair and sat next to Chloe instead.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” Chloe said stiffly back.

“Marinette’s a wreck,” she said quietly. “Your fault.”

Chloe looked at her warily. Had Marinette told her anything? “Why?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Listen, I’ve never really liked you. In fact, I’d even say you’re a bitch most of the time--”

“Okay, I get it. What do you want?” Chloe was not in the mood for Alya’s sass.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Okay, Chloe, as I said, you’re by no means my favorite person in the world. But Jesus _Christ_ , you’d be better for Marinette than Adrien. They only talk about the shallowest things ever and I cannot stand for it any longer.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes. “So… what are you proposing?” Briefly, she wondered if this was all some joke. Maybe Alya was recording her and was going to upload this online to humiliate her. But then again, maybe she wasn’t. Chloe had always admired (and been incessantly jealous of) her honesty and frankness with people. So maybe she would give this a shot.

“I’m not proposing anything,” Alya said in a lofty voice. “That would be betraying my best friend, even though maybe I do see what’s best for her. I’m just saying that maybe you two should figure out your feelings instead of ignoring them. You know, like functional people.”

“I’m perfectly functional, thanks,” Chloe sniffed, a little stung, but she had never wanted to hug Alya more than right now. She was right.

“You like her,” Alya said, and it wasn’t a question. “Don’t look so surprised, girl, you’ve been eyeing her since the fourth grade.” She waved away Chloe’s spluttered protests. “Marinette is amazing. Trust me, I know that. But she is the most oblivious, clumsy girl in human history, and unfortunately that means she can be clumsy with people’s hearts, too. And that girl is so oblivious that she doesn’t even know how _she_ feels half the time. But here’s how I see it.”

  
And Chloe leaned in like she was about to hear the gospel.

“She’s so used to liking Adrien. And boys in general, I think. That’s a huge part of it. It’s so much easier to focus on straight crushes, you know? I mean, _I_ know.”

“You’re not straight?” Chloe said, a little shocked.

“You can’t _seriously_ tell me that you thought that thing with Ladybug was just a celebrity crush, honey. That girl is _hot_.”

“Whatever,” Chloe said. Okay, so maybe she could admit that Ladybug was hot, but that was the last thing she needed to think about right now. “Get to the point.”

“So then you come along, and I think Marinette used to have a thing for you before you became, y’know, evil towards her. But now you two are suddenly assigned to do this project together, and all her feelings are back out there.”

“How would you know this? Does she talk about me?” Her heart was pounding again. _Please._

“Not… directly,” Alya said after some deliberation. “Marinette, she doesn’t talk about her feelings much when she doesn’t want to. She shows them. And I think sometimes she shows them with you, whether she’s trying to or not. And personally, I can’t imagine why on _earth_ she’d want t--”

“Thanks, Alya,” Chloe said with gritted teeth, but then she reflected on her words. _She shows them._ So maybe she hadn’t been reading into things. “I don’t see the point of this, though. She said she doesn’t know if she likes me.”

“I’m sure she was telling you the truth. She says she likes Adrien, but she won’t date him. Girl, if she took on another person, I think she would explode.”

“So that’s it, then?” Chloe said. “She just stays a box of secrets forever?”

The bell rang. Alya got up and squeezed Chloe’s shoulder with surprising heart. “You two will figure this out. Maybe she was right about you.”

It was unexpected. Alya talking to Chloe as if the two were friends, offering to help her, giving her advice…

She felt lighter. Like she’d been trapped in an airless tank and someone had opened the smallest crack and she now knew she’d get out.

She’d get out of this.

Whatever happened with Marinette, Chloe would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hold onto ur wigs, this upcoming chapter is wild


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so super frickin tired  
> anyway enjoy this ;))))  
> also just a reminder that this chapter takes place a few WEEKS after the last one lmao it wouldn’t rly make much sense otherwise

A few weeks later, the girls sat in Marinette’s room working silently on the final stages of their work. The project was due tomorrow.

“I can’t believe this is over already,” Marinette said, shaking her head. “I think this is the most fun I’ve ever had on an English project.”

Chloe winced slightly. She wished she wouldn’t say things like that, things that made it sound like she enjoyed being around her. “Me too!” She said cheerily instead. “I guess you aren’t _completely_ awful at writing.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and reached for the scissors at the same time as Chloe. The instant their hands touched, Marinette pulled hers away. Like Chloe was a disease.

She hated the mixed signals, and she hated reading into every little thing Marinette did. _She doesn’t like me,_ she told herself furiously _. I really need to get over myself._

She remembered what Alya had said, that they needed to actually talk through this. So she shelved her pride and said, “I liked the drawing you did on the cover.”

  
“Oh,” Marinette said. “The… the broken heart one?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “It was good.”

“I’ve wanted to talk about that,” she said slowly. “About… well, you know. Everything happening lately.” She capped the glue stick and set it down, sighed and closed her eyes. “I think I just needed some time to get everything sorted out in my life. And I’m really, really sorry. Because I know I didn’t give you a straight answer. And I know it probably seems like I’ve been leading you on.”

Chloe thought of all of the times they’d looked at each other the past few weeks, lapses in their conversations where their eyes would lock then hastily fall away from each other. The jokes, little excuses to touch each other’s arm or get close. “Yeah,” she admitted. “It did seem like that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” She was biting her lip. “Adrien asked me out.”

Something hard fell inside of Chloe. She couldn’t deal with this again, but she knew that since they were still friends, she _should_ help her, she _should_ be by her side. So why was it so _hard_? Unfairly, she felt angry with Adrien. _That dumb bitch--_

The truth was, Chloe had always gotten what she wanted, and the agonizing wait for Marinette was taking too much out of her.

“I said no,” Marinette said.

Chloe looked up. Her face was closed again, and she was still biting at her lip. Chloe wanted to hold her.

“I don’t know what it was. I just didn’t want to. He’s a good guy, and it’s not like he’s unattractive or mean or anything. I could have said yes, I guess. I just… don’t know if the chemistry is there. Alya said to me that he’s dull, and ever since then I’ve started seeing it. I’m not sure we’d be compatible.”

Chloe shouldn’t have dared to hope, but she couldn’t help it. When would her foolish heart ever learn? Girls like Marinette didn’t look at girls like Chloe, whatever Alya may have said before. They just _didn’t_.

“Plus,” Marinette said, then released a huge breath, “I am having a very hard time getting over how I’ve felt about _you_ lately.”

She must have heard her wrong. How she’d felt about-- about _her. Chloe._

“When I thought about it, or, I guess, when I started ranting nonsense to Alya, I realized that I never really knew Adrien. We talked, but not about… important things. And I don’t think I ever really liked him. He’s cute, but liking him just seemed like something I should do, to deal with loneliness or maybe just because it’s so much easier to just like a boy.”

Chloe was having trouble remembering how to breathe.

“But _you_. You were the one who was always there, and I knew that.” She laughed and put her face in her hands. “Trust me, I knew you were pretty. But I didn’t want to think about things like that. It almost felt like I was betraying Adrien. I keep thinking of what you said about Ladybug. About how people chase images and reflections… I don’t think I ever really liked Adrien. I liked who I wish he was and who he made me. Could I have used him as a crutch to get over my loneliness? Yeah. I guess. But when he asked me out… I realized I don’t like him.”

Their faces were so, _so_ close. When had they gotten this close? Chloe could see every freckle on her face.

“Oh,” Chloe breathed. They were _so_ close.

“I think I like _you_ , Chloe.”

It was like a dam of terrible feelings had broken, and the love she’d always felt for Marinette came rushing back, faster and more intensely than ever before. For a second, Chloe couldn’t speak, but when she opened her mouth anyway, to tell her so, Marinette shook her head.

“Don’t,” she told her. And then she kissed her, or maybe Chloe kissed Marinette. She wasn’t sure. She just knew that every nerve of her was _singing, feeling_ , totally caught up in the sensation of the softest, gentlest kiss, the way Marinette’s fingers brushed the back of Chloe’s neck and pulled her closer, the taste of citrus on her lips. The kiss filled her up, took her over, glued back every piece of her that had broken apart before. It was like embracing a star. Warmth bubbled low in her stomach and all of this was amazing, better than anything Chloe had ever imagined before.

And then it was over, and Marinette was pulling back slowly and smiling this shy little smile.

“I think I like you too,” Chloe whispered as she leaned back into her.. “Very, very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love writing kissing scenes :^) !!!! pls let me know what u thought!!!


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh ok i know this is so short but this is more of an epilogue than a full chapter. anyway, enjoy

Somewhere along the way, Chloe had asked Marinette out.

Somewhere along the way, she had said yes.

At first, everything was tentative: their actions at school, when they could hang out without being suspected of dating…

All of that changed when Chloe told her father.

He was a friendly man overall, but Chloe knew firsthand just how terrifying he could get when angry.

And his daughter being in a relationship with another girl had an extremely high chance of making him angry.

“I can go with you,” Marinette had told Chloe. She had squeezed her hand. She’d never seen Chloe look so scared.

“That’s alright,” Chloe had said. “I wouldn’t want him to ban you or something.”

And the conversation had gone well. _Surprisingly_ well. He wasn’t happy, and he even tried to fight her on it, but Chloe had been adamant that _she_ chose who she dated. That Marinette was good for her and he needed to put aside his unwarranted feelings on the matter.

People at school were even more accepting. Alya was thrilled and hugged Chloe when she found out-- a feat that Chloe never could have imagined in her wildest dreams.

Marinette told her parents, and they’d just given each other little knowing smiles. She realized that they’d been right all along. In the end, Chloe’s steadfastness _was_ what drew Marinette to her.

“I have to wonder if she did this on purpose,” Marinette said at one point.

“Who?”

“Madame Bustier.” Marinette sat up from where she’d been lying across Chloe’s bed. “Did she know this was going to happen? Do you think she knew you and I aren’t straight?”

Chloe laughed. “I think you’re reading into this way too much,” she said. “If you’re always worrying about things like this instead of the homework we’re supposed to be doing right now, that explains your abysmal French history grade right now.”

“A ‘B’ is _not_ abysmal, you bitch!” Marinette giggled in reply, swatting at Chloe’s arm.

And now they were both laughing, and it was like the sun had finally, _finally_ come out after weeks spent in the darkness.

So much had happened between them. But for now, it wasn’t them against the world. Everything was on their side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u if u read the whole thing that means a lot!!!! pls leave ur feedback below :^)


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